The Mask Is The Real ME
by FAN-OF-EPIC-FANTASY
Summary: You know how super hero's wear their mask to hide their real identity? Well not me. My mask is my true identity. I'm FOX SHADOW, and this me.
1. Chapter 1

Hey everybody this is also an idea I had for a while.

Naruto born in the kick-ass Universe!

**WARNING: **I do not own Naruto, or Kick-Ass. They belong to their respective creators. Masashi Kishimoto, Mark Millar, and John Romita

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You know how super heros put on mask, and costumes to hide their real identity right. I don't believe that's entirely true. I believe when a hero puts on their mask they show a part of themselves that's as real as their "true identity".

Clark Kent is real, but only half of a whole. To most of the world Clark Kent is just a clumsy reporter whos good at his job. Superman is strong, and powerful. Someone the world depends on. Only when he's Superman he could truly use his powers to save the day, without Clark Kent restraining him.

Batman is probably the greatest example of what I mean. Batman is the real persona. Bruce Wayne died when his parents were murdered. Batman was born on that night, even way before Bruce first put on the cowl. Bruce Wayne just became a facade to fund Batman, and protect his secrets. It's probably why I connect with him the most, besides other things. Bruce Wayne just became a necessity that still take's a big part of his life.

I think you get my point.

A super hero's "true identity" is only half. It's their so they could blend with society, and protect the people they love. It is still is big part of their life. Just as their super hero identity is their to do whats right with no other reason, because they choose to, and not put the one they love in danger. Both halfs are real, and make a whole.

Every super hero have these two parts of themselves. But not me.

The smiley lucky go dense idiotic blone that people know me as is a lie. He's a mask I use to lie to everybody around me. At one time he was real, but no more. He's dead, and I use his corpse to hide in plain view, to hide in society.

But when I discard the mask of a fool, the real me start's showing. When I put on my costume I'm no longer the scrawny kid my pears pick on, and mock. When I put my mask, my real face on, the pain, the rage, and the void I hide everyday is in plain view for all to see.

Only when I'm in costume I am me. The me that has purpose. The purpose to make every rapist, gangbanger, and douch bag criminals that are beyond redemption pay for the pain they've cause.

Theirs one ass hole though I have set my eyes on beyond the other scum of humanity. I will make Frank D'Amico pay for everything he's done. He will fear me. He will fear **FOX** **SHADOW! **And when I'm holding the tip of my sword next to his neck, and look in his eye's, seeing him realize how badly he fucked up. Then... Then I'll send him straight to hell.

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Tell me what you think!

Oh, and tell me your ideas for this story. I like to know. Don't worry I will gve you credit. Till next time.


	2. Chapter 2

New Chapter, and Kick-Ass 2 is out mother fuckers! If you haven't watch it yet you suck! Which means... I suck(crying in the conner). Well I'm watching it tomarrow. HA.

**WARNING:** I do not own Naruto, or Kick-Ass. They belong to their respective creators. Masashi Kishimoto, Mark Millar, and John Romita.

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**How The Fuck did I End Up Here!**

"Keep your head down asshole!" my tempary partner said yanking me down beside her behind the kitchen counter, just as I felt a bullet whizz over my head.

"Well we can't just stay here shorty! Were sitting duck's! Or do you have anymore kitchen knives left! It was great idea throwing them all by the way!" sarcasm dripping from my voice.

The girl in the purple costume, mask, and wig, who calls her self Hit-Girl, got a tick mark at my shorty comment, and obvious sarcasm, but reluctantly admit throwing all the knives wasn't her best idea. Really throwing them all for 1 guy? Seriously?

"Fuck this shit! I'm getting the bazooka." I heard one of Frank D'Amico's goon's yell. I think his name was Stu?

Me, and my partner looked at each other with wide eye's saying simultaneously "Bazooka?"

"Well were fucked," I dead pan.

"Thank's for stating the obvious dip shit," Hit-Girl said charle horsing me hard in the leg.

I looked at the 11 year old vigilante while rubbing my leg, seeing for the first time fear on her face. I never saw her afraid before. Not even when we charge in the warehouse to save Big Daddy, and Kick-Ass.

Maybe knowing the fact that we really were going to die dawn on her. She alway knew their was chance she could die when she put on her mask, but she alway's had somthing to help. Gun's, melee weopens, her wits and Big Daddy. Especialy Big Daddy. She has nothing, but me now. Both of us can't come up with anything in time to avoid a fucking bazooka.

I didn't like that look. I'm more use to her sweet, crazy, arrogant smile.

I put my hand on her shoulder trying to comfort her, letting her know she wasn't alone. I thought she was going to hit me again, but she locked her eyes with mine, and smiled. Then she hit me.

"Fuck." I yelp in pain. I rubbed the sore part of my left arm.

"That what you get for going soft asshole. Don't start getting soft on me. " She said scowling. She looked down at her lap, letting the bangs of her wig obscure her mask face.

"But thanks." I barly heard her. Despite the situation I couldn't help, but smile. Even if she couldn't see it under my mask.

We look over the counter again, just in time to see the fat ass returning with M20 super bazooka. "I alway's wanted to say this! Say hello to my little friend!" Lucky bastard. I always wanted to say that.

_"Damit Dave. Were the fuck are you!"_

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Ok pause right their.

Hi. My names Naruto Namikaze. I'm 13 year's old, and top of my 7th grade class academically. I'm not physicaly strong(or let people think so). I live with my grand parent's in the east side of Staten Island New York.

I'm also a vigilante crime fighter. I call myself Fox Shadow. No I'm not kidding. I have been doing this for 1 year now, and I'm quite good at what I do. How I end up being Fox Shadow? Well I'll tell you later.

You're probably wondering now, how the fuck did I end up behind Frank D'Amico's(who's New York's most ruthless crime lord) kitchen counter, next to a 11 year old fellow crime fighter who calls herself Hit-Girl(Who I might like), waiting to be blown up by a fucking bazooka.

My story started when I was 8. However the event's leading up to this moment, started roughly about 3 month's ago when my friend Dave Lizewski decided to be a retard, and dawn a green wet suit, calling himself Kick-Ass. He should have called himself Dumb-Ass.

Sure what he did in that video was amazing. Willing to die for a complete stranger, his determination to get back up(I think his fucked up nerve system might have help), and his speech have earn my respect. Really to do all that for no other reason just because he can. I was envious.

Too bad his fighting ability is next to shit. I thought he would have learn after getting stab, and run over by a car, that this isn't a game, and he could die. Oh well. Once a dumb ass alway's a dumb ass I guess.

This is my story. How I finaly get my revenge on the mob, and find a few kindred spirit's along the way.


End file.
